[i]He was proud of her.[/i]

That thought was enough to headstart Quinn on the process of collecting herself again. It took her some time after that torment of a conversation for sure. When she finally checked back in to reality, she was sweating bullets, and the tears had drawn thin, then stopped. She exhaled slowly, doing her best to slow her racing mind and heart. This had snowballed so far out of control that she'd nearly forgotten the thing that she'd wanted to ask him to begin with. And, encouraged by the warmth in his voice flooding back, she pressed on, voice stronger than it had been before:

"[color=ffe63d]Well, there's...there is one more thing I wanted to ask about.[/color]" She rapped her fingers nervously on the armrest of the chair, and the series of sharp clicks from her fingernails seemed to be helping her a surprising amount. Something to keep in mind for later, she thought.

"[color=ffe63d]...I'm sure people have started yelling at you about Roaki by now, right.[/color]" It wasn't spoken like a question, and it wasn't meant like one. Her voice steadily began to take on a bit of a rarer tone than most: she was [i]fretful.[/i] She was worried over Roaki, and she certainly sounded like it. "[color=ffe63d]I just wanted to ask...[/color]" She stopped her fingers' steady staccato, "[color=ffe63d]...what do I do?[/color]" 

Emboldened by having finally asked and Doctor Follen's renewed warmth, she forged on with a hint more confidence. "[color=ffe63d]I'm afraid that the Board will do something to Besca, or to you, because I'm not listening to them. So...is there [i]anything[/i] I can do?[/color]" Nerves boiled in her gut as she waited for a response. After all, if Doctor Follen couldn't think of something—Quinn thought he was the smartest person she knew—then things were [i]really, really[/i] bad.